Monday, December 3, 2012

I arrived at IRES four years ago with a shiny new white
MacBook. Now, I often look around a meeting or lecture to find myself in
possession of the oldest technology in the room. When I find myself in this
position, three things happen: first, the small hipster inside me says ever so
suavely “Awesome! I am so vintage!” Second,
the small self-righteous environmentalist inside me gets up on my high horse
(“I resisted buying shiny things the longest! I am so green!”) and feels all smug for not consuming as much as everyone
else.

Then, third, my
smugness explodes and I feel like a jerk, and I promptly fall off my horse. The
small thinky person inside me yells “WHAATT??!?!?” – because I am no
anti-consumption superhero (I am pretty sure an anti-consumption superhero
would not have equipment for seven sports in her closet, or own a dog and a
car), and because I have a huge respect for the people I work with. So I start thinking
about why a room full of people who are dedicated to making the world more
sustainable, both in their daily lives and in the work they do for a living,
might have traded their old computer-friends in for the latest model – even though
that generates e-waste (a
big problem for environmental sustainability (1)) –, and why many keep
replacing them with Macs, built by a company that is thought to be promoting
consumption through in-built
obsolescence, and whose ethics
are questioned – despite Apple being in a position to lead industry social
and environmental standards.

Many of the people I work with, like me, think it’s
important to limit our consumption. But
we also share a desire to do our work as well as we can. Having a tool that
works well, and is well-suited to the job is important. Unlike other computers
I met during my fieldwork in Uganda, my Mac stood up to tropical temperatures
and inhaling large quantities of red dust, an important consideration given
there is more fieldwork in my future. At the same time, keeping my old computer
alive and happy - taking it apart to clean the fan, upgrading the ram so it
could handle the latest operating system, troubleshooting software glitches –
has taken time and effort. Better technology can help us to do things better or
more efficiently, and time and effort spent keeping old technology going is
time not spent on our work.

So, how do I balance my desire to limit my consumption with
my desire to do my best work?

Having to prioritize between different things that are
important to us is not unusual. But this particular conflict is one that often
weighs on me heavily, as I know it does on others I work with, I think because both
our desire to limit consumption and our desire to work well are ultimately
driven by the same overarching desire we share to make the world more
sustainable. It’s hard enough to figure out how to make sense of these
conflicting objectives to make the best decision for sustainability overall; on
top of this, there are many other influences pulling us in different
directions. I feel the pull of a society that tells me it’s desirable to
consume and that I can’t really live life to the fullest or work most
efficiently without the latest gadget. I feel the pull of Apple’s ingenious
advertising and beautiful design that makes me covet their sleek and shiny technology.
I feel the pull of an academic culture that tells me that more consumption is
ok, as long as it helps me to work more efficiently and productively. And, I
feel the pull of an environmental culture that lures me towards my high horse
with promises of virtue for having the oldest computer in the room, even when
it starts becoming questionable whether that computer is a good tool for my
work. Given that, even with the best intentions, people have trouble making
rational decisions – e.g. a friend’s parents buying a shady time-share condo, apparently to justify a whole morning of their vacation wasted listening to the sales pitch (a phenomenon researchers call cognitive
dissonance), my own seduction by Apple
gadgets (affective
factors like emotions and values), and
Kai’s obsession with big sales, even when he knows rationally that these sales
aren’t always as good a deal as they seem (based on logic that implicitly uses the
original price of the sale items as a reflection of their worth—anchoring) - it's no surprise that these decisions are hard, and we’re not always going to get them right, or even
know when we have.

But that doesn’t mean we should stop trying. My computer is
still ticking, but it is showing the first signs of senility (5 minute
startups, periods of confusion) and fragility (persistent fanning). I don’t
relish having to decide when to replace it, with what, and how to balance my desire
to limit my consumption with my desire to do the best work I can. But I suspect
I will have the best chance at making a good choice for sustainability if,
rather than judging myself against others in the wonderful communities I belong
to, I instead go forward guided by their support and insights to help me to both
find good information about my options, and most importantly, to be more aware
and mindful of how I am being pulled and influenced and when my pride may be out-pulling my desire for sustainability – i.e. by
staying away from horses.